


Poolside Evening

by ConvenientAlias



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 18:50:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17648018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: Marco, Jake, and a night in.





	Poolside Evening

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladysugarquill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladysugarquill/gifts).



Marco liked to joke that Jake never showed up at Marco's without a personal army. This wasn’t quite true, but at least there were always bodyguards, Jake being the target he was. Today, Marco could spot three. One that had driven Jake here, that he was supposed to see, and two lingering a little ways down the street. No offense to them, of course. Marco was a veteran, so they said, he knew how to spot them—besides, chances were there were a couple more guys he wasn’t seeing. Someday, at least, they’d start having people trailing Jake in morph, and then spotting the tail would be impossible.

He hugged Jake, then nodded slightly at the tail. “Should we ask them in?”

Jake rolled his eyes. “I told them you have your own security.”

This was true. Marco had a strong security system in his house—he wasn’t as paranoid as Jake or the military, but he knew he was a target too, both for his past actions and his current fortune—and he had a couple security guards patrolling the perimeter at all times.

Anyways, he was an Animorph. One that had actually fought the war, not one of the little trainees Jake liked to brag about. (Not that he was jealous.) He was a one-man army himself—or at least a one-man zoo with protective impulses.

“Come in, then. Your team’s probably worried someone will snipe you in the doorway.”

“I should be so lucky,” Jake joked. Well, it was probably a joke.

Marco winked at the man in the car before closing the door, the only man he was supposed to be able to see. But the man was wearing sunglasses, and Marco couldn’t see if he winked back or not.

* * *

He dragged Jake off to the pool. Tried to convince him to morph dolphin or squid or shark, and was reminded that the chlorine would be less than ideal. Tried to convince him to morph beaver and was met with a laugh, at least. So Jake wasn’t going to be too grumpy tonight.

Eventually he at least convinced Jake to skinny dip, so there was that.

“You know there are probably eyes on us right now,” Jake said idly. He was in a back-float, staring at the sky.

“Your security isn’t _that_ good, Jake. They’re probably just patrolling.”

There was a seagull overhead. That was what Jake was staring at. Marco punched him in the arm, startling him out of his back-float. “Hey. Jake.”

Jake said, “It’s getting late, isn’t it? Didn’t you say we were doing barbecue?”

“Yeah.”

“Shouldn’t we get started on that?”

“My chef’s taking care of it. Trust me, he does better barbecue than me. Or anyone. He’s making marinated steak tips and asparagus.”

Jake wrinkled his nose. “Whatever happened to hamburgers and hot dogs?”

“I should have known the All-American Tiger would find something to complain about.”

Jake huffed and went into a dead man’s float. Marco couldn’t help but count the seconds. But he surfaced for air after less than a minute, and Marco pretended he hadn’t been paying any attention.

The food arrived by way of butler. “Wetherbee,” Marco said, “just put it down on the table, yeah? We’ll get it in a minute. And bring a couple Diet Cokes?”

“Thanks, _McPherson_ ,” Jake said pointedly.

“Phew,” Marco said when Wetherbee had gone. “Start remembering people’s names and they get spoiled.”

“Do you realize that you’re turning into a caricature or is it just natural with you?”

“Hey. Shut it, or no steak tips. You can live off your imaginary hot dogs.”

They got out of the water and dried off. Jake put his pants back on. Marco put nothing on and sat down in Jake’s lap.

“Marco.”

“Jake,” Marco mimicked.

Jake sighed. “Marco, I’m trying to eat.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

“You’re heavy.”

“Oh, is that the problem?” Marco stroked his chin. “If you want, I can turn into a squirrel…”

“Please don’t.”

“So you do appreciate my body.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

He kissed Marco’s shoulder. Unfortunately he smeared the steak sauce on it. Marco demanded he lick it clean, and he obliged.

They ate and talked. Jake had more complaints than usual about his class—usually he went on and on about how ridiculous it was that these brilliant soldiers actually listened to him, giving Marco a headache. The root of it was that next week he was supposed to teach them about morphing insects, including flies. Obviously not something he was looking forward too.

“So make do with mosquito. Close enough, less traumatizing.”

Jake gave Marco a look.

“Hey, we all know we have trauma. I’m just willing to admit it.”

“It’s an irrational fear. We’ll be morphing in a closed environment. And the instincts are different enough that the experience would be valuable.”

“What can a house fly do that a mosquito can’t?”

“Well, they’re actually less likely to get swatted. Surprisingly. Because if you lose control of house fly instincts, you’ll just go chasing fruit, but if you lose control of a mosquito you’re gonna bite someone, and they probably won’t be happy. Better to use a morph with a lower likelihood of engaging the enemy…”

“Bullshit.” Marco gave him a level stare. “Just don’t do it, Jake. No one’s making you.”

“I can’t let my personal issues interfere with teaching an _elite_ _military_ class, Marco.”

Marco sighed. “If you want, I’ll teach it. I’ll be the substitute.”

“Do you even know how big of a background check they’d insist on?”

“Look, I’m a war hero.”

“Yeah, but right now you’re mostly known for keeping the tabloids in business.”

“So?”

“I appreciate the offer, but… I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Well, when you’re having nightmares the next night, give me a call. Or just come over.” Marco leaned back against Jake’s chest. “That would probably be ideal.”

“Okay. I’ll come over.”

It was getting easier to convince Jake to visit more often. Well, it had started getting easier when they started fucking—Jake insisted that it was a _relationship_ now, and hey, Marco wasn’t going to disagree. And after a few months of relationshipping, they had settled into a pattern of regular visits and dates, often shadowed by security but still relaxing.

Though more relaxing in some ways than others. They didn’t tend to get a lot of sleep.

* * *

In the morning, a car was idling outside the door again, waiting to pick Jake up. Big Jake was done with his sleepover, going back to Mama Government. Marco gracefully escorted him to the door wearing a bath robe that revealed the dark hickeys on his neck, to Jake’s chagrin.

“Can you at least pull it closed a little?”

“Jake, last night you said you wanted everyone to know I was yours. Now you want to hide me? Like a harlot?” Marco raised his eyebrows in mock horror.

Jake groaned. “You know the tabloids are going to figure out it’s me sooner or later.” They’d been wildly speculating about Marco’s newest flame for months—he’d been keeping it quiet, which was very unlike him. No one had guessed Jake yet because even though they were hanging out a lot, they’d always been seen together enough that it wasn’t all that suspicious. Besides, Jake Berenson, interested in men? Jake had never said anything to the contrary, but people made assumptions, and it was common knowledge currently that he was straight.

“I wouldn’t mind people knowing,” Marco said.

“Eventually.”

The car didn’t honk—it would never be so rude to Jake—but the person driving it had gotten out. It was a woman this time, and while she wasn’t crossing her arms or anything, she didn’t look all that happy to be left waiting either.

“Well, I know your real love is the army. See you, baby.” Marco pulled Jake in for a quick but thorough kiss. Jake hugged him, then ran off, already apologizing to his security team.

Until next time, then.


End file.
